


Ready When You Are

by dawn_watcher



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, Fourth of July, Marine Mammals, One Shot, Orphan Rey (Star Wars), Protective Kylo Ren, Rey Needs A Hug, Teenagers, Underage Drinking, Young Ben Solo, Young Rey, gratuitouslyshirtlessbensolo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 04:04:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawn_watcher/pseuds/dawn_watcher
Summary: Rey is ready to start her new life in Takodana, Georgia. Ben Solo's almost ready to leave it all behind. But when they meet at his parent's fourth-of-July party, it gives them both something to look back to for years to come. Years later, when they meet again at Rey's wildlife conservationist job, could they be ready in love to take the leap?





	Ready When You Are

Rey couldn't sleep, although that's what lying in a different bed could do sometimes. Moonlight blazed in through her window, rippling over her sheets and beaming off of the ceiling. It was probably past midnight by now, but she certainly knew it was already tomorrow in West Essex, where she was twenty hours ago. Her twelfth birthday, but she's never seen it from outside of the country she was born in. 

Raised on the meagre funds of an under-staffed foster system, Rey wasn't sure how to feel about leaving England. She had worked her ass off to be here though, between her studies and her science projects, she had managed to catch the attention of a full-ride scholarship committee in Takodana, Georgia. Some rich family's charity scheme, no doubt, but she'd accepted it as soon as she could be sure it wasn't a human trafficking scam. The chance to get an associates degree in the states, after one more year of prep in school, might even get her ahead just enough to make a real life for herself.

But could this be real? she thought to herself. Every color, every flavor, every plant here was unreal, the beauty in it took her breath away. 

Her host mom, Maz Kanata, picked her up from the airport in an orange rusted truck earlier that evening, blasting Florence and the Machine. Her kind, abrasive demeanor was definitely eclectic in comparison to her typical foster parents, but maybe she could get used to it. And the food - she could definitely get used to that. The most delicious plate of anything ever given to her - crisply fried chicken legs, honey buttered cornbread, and a whopping pile of okra - a thing she'd never even seen before in her life. After they ate, they rocked in her old white chairs on the front porch, embracing the sticky evening air with iced tea and frozen watermelon as they watched cars pass.

“You ought to see a real Georgian sunset." Maz assured, as if the brilliant pinks and oranges in the sky over the streetlights and wooden roofs were merely kid’s scribbles. “We’ll go and see it at the waterfront tomorrow."

And maybe they will, Rey thought to herself, staring at the ceiling. Yet again, not many people kept their promises to her. 

\--

Rey didn't expect her birthday to be sort of a big deal, but it seemed like the massive stands of fireworks and red-white-and blues everywhere would indicate otherwise. She already knew, of course, that she shared her birthday with the world's most extra country, but none of this was a big deal in West Essex. 

Maz took her out to buy a dress at the highway Target. Bombarded by the extravagant materialism, Rey contained herself to the smallest corner of the store from which she picked a light blue dress with a stringed halter neck.

"Maz, is that you?” A man’s voice gruffed rather loudly. They turn to see an older guy pushing a cart stacked with enough chips, sodas, and hamburger meat for a modern cave man, or a whole clan of them. 

“Han, I didn’t know you shopped here!” Maz exclaims heartily, and when Rey sees his branded watch and shirt, she gets it. 

“Only when Leia’s not taking me to an over-priced, bio-nonsense lame pretense of a grocery store.” He mutters, bleeding that quintessential thrifty dad-ness Rey always imagined through the television. He suddenly seems to notice Rey with a mild indifference, but flashes a quizzical look at Maz. “Who’s this?”

“This is the Castle Grant girl I’ve been telling Leia about,” she smiles proudly, squeezing Rey’s shoulder lightly. Rey wrings the blue dress in her hands a moment, taken aback by the sudden unexpected attention. “Rey, this is Han Solo.”

“Ah of course, nice to meet you” he nods thoughtfully, if not altogether there, before his eyes light up a bit. “Hey, what do you say you bring her over tonight? Leia would be thrilled! We’re just having a small get-together at our place for the fireworks. I should’ve invited you sooner - ”

“Leia’s already done that,” Maz laughs; Han grumbles an awkward, but well-meant apology before carting off with his arsenal of barbecue essentials. Some small get together this is going to be, Rey notes, with no small amount of worry beginning to build in her thoughts. She never really did well in one-on-one encounters, let alone massive events. 

They spend the next couple of hours assembling their own preparations, things Rey couldn’t even imagine herself doing a week ago as she ties a checkered apron over her dress. She carries handfuls of torn up bread loaves to their assigned baking dishes, for which Maz concocts a mouthwatering spiced mixture to soak them in. While they bake, Rey positions herself strategically near the kitchen’s air conditioning unit, grateful for the icy relief as she slices up dozens of strawberries. Maz has an old radio where she listens to vague environmentally-focused talk shows, which Rey can hardly hear over whatever Maz is doing on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Rey, I want you to see this.” Maz calls, beckoning Rey over to the curious, gleaming red machine she has propped on the counter. Rey preens to look inside, hit with cold, familiar aroma of sugar and cream. 

“No way,” she balks at the churning ice cream, looking to Maz “did you actually make this?”

Maz chuckles a little, pausing the whirring machine to dip a wooden spoon in the mix. “Don’t think I didn’t notice what day it is Rey, happy birthday,” she hands her the spoon, which Rey hesitantly accepts. 

“You’re not saying that’s for me?” She asks, gaping at the mix a little jokingly.

“Child forget about it!” Her nose scrunches in playfully feigned anger. "But you do get to pick the flavor.” 

Rey considers the spoon, the glittering surface of the ice cream on it. Plenty of other kids from her old block pedaled drugs for magnum bars that the older ones would reward them with, but this - this was truly worth it - minimal. good. pure. 

“Vanilla,” she says, placing the spoon and it's cold mixture in her mouth before getting back to her strawberry chopping. 

—

Between two trips for both of them, they load the food into the back seat of the truck, then drive down the country roads to the Organa residence. It’s not the McMansion she imagined, just a classically simple single-storey home on a lane draped by the shadows of oak trees and Spanish moss. They parked a couple of houses down, where there’s space among all of the other cars parked by guests for the party. They walk along the jasmine vines and wrought iron fences before reaching Han and Leia’s, which Maz opens with a crooked elbow while her hands hold a bread-pudding dish, but she doesn’t walk in. “Rey,” she says, fixing her with an earnest eye, “I want you to know that we can go home anytime you want. It’s not a trouble to me. If all of this is too much at any point -“ 

“Mrs. Kanata,” Rey beams, trying to think of everything there was to look forward to, besides the bustling, jazz filled house she could hear just a few steps beyond. “I can’t wait,” she smiles, genuinely appreciative of all the work this woman has done. For that, Rey could face all this for a couple of hours. “Let’s go.”

Crossing the painted porch, Leia follows Maz as she swings out the swing door to get into the house. The entry way and living room, which Rey can spot through around the first corner, is painted dark teal from ceiling to floor, scattered with an eclectic mix of picture frames, holding signed photographs, record albums, family vacations, curiously unspent bills from foreign currencies. A glass pitcher of spectacularly white hydrangeas sits on the mahogany entryway table, and Rey can’t help but touch them lightly before treading after Maz again. 

“Maz! Welcome! Let me take that - I’ll send Ben out to help with the rest” A grandiose woman- Leia, Rey suspects, snatches Maz in open arms, planting a friendly kiss on the cheek. “And Rey! We’re so glad you’re finally here,” she says gently, the warmth in her smile folding in creases along her eyes and brow, and Rey can’t help but smile a little to herself. “I know it’s all new, but we wanted to get you something for your birthday. Wait here - “

Recalling Han’s poor manners earlier, Rey bites back a sarcastic thought on Leia’s wording: we. She was also completely aware of her own lack of social skills, and thereby her own reasons not to judge, but before she continue thinking about it Leia returned with a small silver box, tied over with a string of shining ribbon. 

“Go ahead. It’ll go really well with the dress,” Rey undoes the ribbon carefully, opening up a delicate silver chain necklace with a small stone pendant at its end, the facets gleaming a warm, deep raspberry color. “Ah-“ Leia sighs, “I’m sorry I really thought it was the right gemstone. I meant to get a ruby for your birth month, but its - “

“Alexandrite.” Rey murmurs. This must have cost a fortune, she barely touches it with the tip of her finger, examining the angles “it’s so lovely - thank you.” 

Rey flashes her enthusiasm, staying a moment to express her thanks before it’s socially acceptable for her to break free. She weaves through the crowds as quickly as she can, breaking outside into the glamorous array of string lights, cocktails, and semi-formal wear. Han is at the grill, the mesquite embers stirring up a pleasantly fragrant smoke. She runs until she comes to a small, uncrowded green space in the garden, holding the stone again between her fingers as it glimmers a new color, a deep greenish blue, like untouched oceans.

When she looks up, though, she’s met with equally dazzling waters. Where the gardens end, long grasses ripple in the brackish water of the river, where armies of small crabs are at bay. A lone, railed dock branches out from before her, nesting a small white boat, and all of it radiant with the glorious power of the setting sun.

So this is a real sunset, she gasps, her feet carrying her towards it. The boards creak obstinately under her feet, but she continues forward, following the long black tube of a water hose leading out to the boat. 

She tries not to mind the man on the dock, hosing the grime off the hull of the boat. Littered at his feet are various crab cages, their contents probable menu items for later tonight. With a foot in the boat as he’s working, he casts a sideways glance at her through dark wet locks. 

Her feet touch the lapping water when she sits at the dock’s end, and for the first time she can remember, she’s blissfully content. She looks back at the guy, who’s moved on to rinsing the salty river water off his body. Before she realizes it, she’s definitely gawking. 

_Nope._

The guy’s just going about his business, stop being a creep, she chastises herself. She’s just here to enjoy the sunset. But her furious blush and racing heart beat have very annoyingly made that difficult. What is he anyway? Seventeen? Eighteen? She’s looking again, so she pointedly watches the other side of the river, leaning on one palm as she curls her toes in the splendid water, cradling the necklace in her other hand. 

The sudden pressure of a weight dropping beside her makes her heart jump in her throat, and she whips her head around to spot a grotesquely frat-type red head plop himself beside her, leaving inches between their bodies. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he slurs, tipping a bottle of beer up between his curved lips, his leg brushing up against hers. “What’s your name?” He coons, grazing his thumb in a brazen circle over her knee, igniting fury in her blood. 

“You know Hux, I didn’t really peg you as the pedophile type.” A dark voice rumbles behind them, belonging to the boat-guy again and his crossed, massive arms. With one of them he grabs a fistful of the red-head’s collar, tugging him up to his feet in a swift and solid movement. Rey stands abruptly, trembling with rage, disgusted with the itch on her leg. 

Her boat-man, still shirtless, guides the red-head, Hux, away with a firm grip on the shoulder “You need to find me someone else to help me with these fireworks- I don’t think you belong within ten feet of an open flame right now.” He shoves him a couple of steps further down the dock, ensuring he continues walking before he walks back to Rey.

“I’m so sorry, I would have thrown him in, but he’d probably drown.” He says, checking her eyes, seeing the lingering traces of anger. 

“Good riddance,” she mutters, eliciting a deep chuckle. 

“Perhaps... I’m Ben.” 

“Rey,” she mumbles again, unwrapping her arms from around her to shake his hand. She’s also trying furiously not to make eye contact with the expanse of his chest. A second time. When her hand grasps his though, a sudden realization hits her. 

“Rey… Hey, what is it?” 

As she’s looking around, she doesn’t see it anywhere - it must have fallen in the water while she with that _moron_. The prick! “I think I dropped my necklace when that idiot - ” 

She gives up explaining, and instead lays herself on all fours on the dock, eyes frantically scanning the murky water, which is hopeless. 

“Wait, hold up,” she feels the same hands pull her back up, rooting her firmly in reassurance. “Let me get this. That shouldn’t have happened anyway.” He steps towards the edge, taking her breath away when he jumps, bobbing on the surface of the water a moment to breathe. And then he dives. 

Awestruck, she bends down again to lean over, counting the seconds as Ben rummages under the surface of the water. A minute? He breaks the surface with a gasp, grasping to the edge by her splayed fingers, his own filled with mud and silt. 

Still hanging to the edge as he wades, he opens his clenched fist, sifting through the sediment - until.

“You actually found it,” she breathes, “thank you." He picks it up to dunk it clean in the water, then places it in her hand so he can push himself up out the water completely, switching around to sit on the dock as she had earlier.

“Yeah, I guess I did. It’s not too deep here, though.” He shrugs through ragged breaths. Clasping the pendant around her neck securely, Rey releases her hands so that they rest again on the wood, a newfound confidence building within her.

She folds her lips, considering the mark above his. “Well what about I help you?” she offers, “it looks like you’re going to need a hand with those fireworks” she casts a pointed glance behind them, where Hux has passed out in a lawn chair, looking completely useless. 

Ben chuckles, looking down in his lap as the laughter and breathlessness take him a second, then he stands, grabbing the hose. _Again?_ She looks away.

“Yeah sure, if you’d like. The rockets and screamers are at the east side of the house, I can show you in a moment.”

“I know which way’s east,” she snaps, mostly out of the annoying presentation of his overtly gorgeous body. He laughs again at that, throwing the end of the hose in the water when he’s finished. 

“Do you want me to turn that off?” She calls back, hoping she doesn’t sound too eager. 

“Don’t worry about it! It’s for the manatees” He smiles, drying his hair in a towel. She rolls her eyes as she turns away, walking off the frustration. 

—

“You know, this is absurd.”

“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“But who even _needs_ eight boxes of these things anyway? It’s just excessive.”

“Look, we both know Britain doesn’t believe in fun, but out here it’s all or nothing.”

She scoffs at that, finally cracking under their word rally. “Alright you win.”

Ben quirks a brow comically, arranging the various fireworks like warheads along the dock’s end. “That should do it.” He wipes the sweat off his brow with the edge of his shirt- thankfully he does own them, before looking back to Rey, hands on his hips with self-satfsfaction.

“Thank God, my stomach is raging.” The sky has darkened significantly, lingering hues of golden light blending together with the starlit blues of the night sky. They walk back to the garden food tables, where she piles her plate high with new discoveries of Southern comfort food, which she’s very consciously aware differs from Ben’s more minimal opting for a steak and salad. 

For a few minutes, she steps away, like an obligatory fulfillment of the try not to seem desperate checklist, she checks in Maz, which is also effective for alleviating suspicion. Maybe Ben is thinking the same thing, though she doubts he might be spending any time with her if he knew how young she was. Sure, she was mature for her age, and he’d already guessed she was underage, but she probably wouldn’t respect him as much if he’d keep flirting with her - being the age she was. 

He splits off from his dad at the grill, dodging in the house for a couple of minutes before he rejoins Rey, with two cans and somehow two cups with ice fitted in his giant grip. They sit again on the pier, the hose dangling between them, as he places the can carefully beside her. 

“If the lady likes, a refreshment.” He places the cup next to it. 

“Alright you’ll have to say that again because whatever accent you just did was terrible.” 

Ben rolls his eyes quite dramatically at that, breaking back into his normal voice, “Well forgive me if I’m just thinking - alright, this poor English lass,”

“ - lass is Scottish,” she giggles,

“If this _person_ ,” he wets his lip, eyes daring her to interrupt him again, “might, understandably, start feeling homesick in the face of all of this awesome American patriotism, she could use a taste of home.” He turns the can, revealing a trusty green and silver can of gin and tonic.

“I would love that.” She smiles graciously, picking up her cup as he pours for both of them. 

“To?” He asks, cup tilted towards his chest. 

“To Clyde.” She states, clinking his cup as his eyes pop open. 

“Clyde?” He asks, brow raising quizzically. 

“Literally the only one I’d feel homesick for, in all of the grey muck I called home” She breathed freely, “But he’ll always be my doggo at heart.” 

He crinkles his eyes, catching on to her attempt at tricking him - at least, that’s what he thought. But he’s still pleased nonetheless, and clinks his cup to hers, for real this time. “To Clyde!” 

They eat through their food, sipping on bubbly gin and tonic. Of course it wasn’t Rey’s first time with alcohol, it was her second, but she’s doesn’t have to pretend she likes it this time. She’s enjoying herself just fine. 

“Alright let me show you,” she says, leaning back till she’s laid down on the dock, and he settles beside her, resting his hand within her reach. 

“There’s Aquila, like a kite.” Her index finger grazes the sky, as if the blanket of stars is really just in front of her. “Draco forms that large tail, like a serpent, and the head is there.” She moves her finger over above him, each inch passing over thousands of light-years, “and Hercules.” The breadth of his fiery limbs and celestial body brushes her fingertips, and she rests her hand back on her beating heart. 

“Incredible,” he breathes, as if unintended for her ears, an unwilling release of awe. 

“It is.” She concedes, chancing a sideways glance at him, at his own stars, like scattered constellations over a pale sky. And in silence they lay there. 

He swallows thickly, eyes glued to the sky. “Was it hard to leave?” 

She blinks once, watching him still. “I’m sorry?"

“To leave home. I just - don’t know how I’m going to do it.” 

There’s a tightening in her chest, a familiar sadness settling over her like a stone. But it isn’t for her. 

“Why?” she murmurs, leaning her head back again. “What’s keeping you?”

“I don’t know… it’s like” he breathes once, gathering himself “it’s like I’m already gone. And my parents, I keep trying to make things right with them. Things haven’t been right since…” He stills for a moment, and she embraces his honesty, but in that moment recognizes the familiar sentiment there are some things we keep quiet, until we overcome them. Or they overcome us. 

“I just miss them, how can I leave until I know things are better?”

“Ben,” she sighs, reaching for his hand. But hesitance thickens around her, and she can feel the illusion, the unspoken lie that would bleed through her touch, and she retracts it. “It’s not your fault. I was afraid…”

She feels the full force of his gaze, but a spark ignites her to return it. And so they lie like this, inches apart, their toes dangling in the water, the beam of the moon echoing on the blacks of their eyes. And she can say aloud what she wishes she knew all along. 

“But I didn’t have to be. And neither do you.” A half-hearted quirk tugs at his lip, as their emotions pull them elsewhere. It goes unsaid how much he is grateful, how much she wishes she could say more, how much they wish their hands could touch. And possibly, their lips. 

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“No stop that I’m actually really ticklish,” she stutters, trying to contain a giggle. She pulls her toes out of the water, hitting him lightly for his stupidly emotionally-evasive game of footsie. She sits up, casually tucking a strand of hair back in its place behind her ear. 

He sits up too, “that wasn’t me.” 

They gasp seperately as they lean over the edge, peering into the glistening black water, its surface rippled by the smooth stream of hose-water and an adorably wrinkled snout. 

“Oh my gosh!” She yelps, watching the manatee suckle the garden hose gleefully, absentmindedly being perhaps the most lovable thing Rey had ever seen. Startled by her voice, it ducks under the water a moment, but bobs back up after a moments silence. 

“Huh, I haven’t seen this one before,” Ben readjusts so he’s laying on his side, arm propped up to support his head and he faces her, still looking down to the manatee. 

“Do you see quite a few then?” 

“Maybe three or four over the years, but never together,” he bites his jaw, a smile hidden in his cheek as the sea-cow lolls below them. “They usually drift up alone or in pairs.”

“So this one…” she drops off, encouraging him with a slightly patronizing nod. 

“This one?”

“Needs a name!”

“No! These are free creatures, they don’t need names,” he insists, enjoying how riled up she’s getting. 

“Lower your voice, you’ve frightened it!” She whispers, then the next idea settles on her, and she leans in. “You’ve probably insulted it too. Leaving it nameless,” she huffs, leaning closer still. Why was she doing this?! 

“Hmm,” Ben’s jaw tightens as he glances at her lips. When did she get so close? 

“BEN!” Han’s voice booms over the yard, hands cuffed around his mouth. Instant mood killer. “We’re waiting on a show here! Get off your ass!” 

He exhales, eyes shut, unsure if he feels exasperated or relieved. Definitely not good, even if it is relief. When he opens them she’s sat upright again, carefully avoiding his face entirely.

“On it Han!” He yells, putting more volume into his voice than is probably necessary. Pushing himself up to his feet, he extends his hand to Rey. “You’ll have to let me think on that name,” he says, pulling her up to him. 

Rey loves the promise in that - some other time. “I think I can allow that."

Ben walks to the end of dock, where he’s uncoiled a ten-yard fuse. If all goes well, it should set off a chain reaction. 

He jumps into the boat, switching on the engine, then leaps out to look at Rey. Perhaps he could offer to take her with him; he’d take the boat out of the firing range and control the bursts from there. But something didn’t feel right. It was one thing when they were on the dock, and she was free to be wherever she wanted to be, but out there? It didn’t feel right to force it, so he brushed off his hands, trying to think of something else to say.

Rey could read it on his face, and she wasn’t hurt, but grateful. “Hey, I’ll see you around.” She grins, turning away.

“Yeah you too,” he says lowly, instantly wondering if that was good enough. He climbs halfway into the boat, before turning back around. 

“Hey Rey!” She looks just as quickly, not sure what it is she’s anticipating.

“Bonnie!” And at that she left him, in hopes that next time would be soon. 


End file.
